Last Chance Harbor (32 page)

She laughed and it echoed out into the night. They didn’t say another word until they climbed into the truck. The drive seemed to take forever. But when Ryder finally came to a stop in front of the house, he admitted, “My palms are actually sweating.”

“Why?”

“I haven’t been with a woman in two years. You had to know that after…that woman…I refuse to say her name tonight and ruin this moment. But you had to know I’d sworn off women.”

She looked at him long and hard, sleeked her hand along his arm. “I don’t think a certain part of your anatomy ever got that memo.”

“Not with you around.” They locked fingers. “Julianne?”

“What?”

“I can’t wait to be inside you.”

“Then why are we just sitting here.”

He trailed after her to the front door, waited while she stuck the key into the lock. If he didn’t get his hands on her soon he thought he might explode. So he reached out, fingered her hair, brushed several strands to the side. He ran his tongue along her neck. She tasted like sweet orange blossoms.

She spun around, used both hands to angle his head down to her mouth.

Weeks of waiting, the tender kiss became fierce, needy. They stumbled over the threshold, bumped into the wall wrapped in each other, lips fused.

He barely kicked the door closed before running his hands inside her blazer, yanked it down her arms and off. In one fluid motion, he went after her silky top. Like a magnet, the sexy bra she wore drew his fingers to the red lace. Underneath, he saw her nipples go taut at the foreplay.

Kicking out of her shoes, she reached around to undo the skirt in the back, slithered out of the mini fabric. She got him rolling out of his jacket, couldn’t work the buttons on his shirt fast enough.

Eyeing the bl
a
c
k
a
nd
re
d army tattoo, she ran her nails over it and along his arm. “Let me see if I can find a way to thank you properly for your service.”

He snagged h
e
r
ar
ound
the
wa
ist, bo
o
s
t
ed h
e
r
up and
o
f
f
h
e
r
f
ee
t.

“Which way?”

“Down the hall.”

Mouths
fed off each other. Teeth scraped against skin like h
ung
r
y
vampires savoring the soft sweet flesh just before a bite. Tongues tagged and played a game of hide-and-seek
.

As soon as they reached the bed, he dropped her on the mattress, skimmed his hands up her thighs and ripped down her panties.

“Red. I really like red.”

“Good to know,” she drawled, kicking out of them. She ran her hands across his chest as he dispatched her bra. She rose up again, guided his rough fingers to her breasts. Her head fell back as pleasure slammed into her. She arched her body, urged him to lick his way around curves, find his way to each nipple.

His fingers roamed to stroke, to wet, to slick. While sensations triggered every nerve from head to toe, she purred out encouragement, one slow chord at a time. “Ryder. You. Do. That. Oh. Oh. So. Well.” The last chorus drew out into more than one syllable.

It was that music to his ears that had him doubling down. His goal was to taste and lick the skin along her lean belly, travel down to satiny thighs.

Another rush of pleasure took hold, dug in. It twirled in circles of gilded light and shimmered in rippled explosions. She wanted more and lifted her hips, realized he was still wearing his pants.

He dealt with the shoes while her fingers found the snap of his jeans, worked it open. She tugged downward on the boxers, wrestled them over his hips and pleaded, “Now, Ryder! Now!”

He sunk into her body, watched her soulful eyes shimmer in heat as the join became complete. Hands spread, their fingers locked, their breath warm and close.

As he moved to cover her mouth, she threw her legs around his waist. Her nails scored along his back, felt each muscle bunch as he drove them toward the peak, the whirlpool, that riptide that drew them under and then over.

Body to body, she raked her fingers through his hair.

Sweaty and spent, breathing hard, Ryder grunted, “I’ll move in a sec.”

“S’okay.”

“No, I must be squashing you. You’re so tiny.”

She puffed out a laugh, bumped his chest with hers. “Right this minute, no complaints about where you are.”

He found that funny and rolled to his back. “I’m pretty happy about it, too.” With a free arm, he wrapped it around her shoulders and brought her into him. “We should’ve thought to bring food. That way we wouldn’t have to get out of bed.”

“Ah. We forgot to eat.”

“I was too focused on this, on you.”

“Same here. We could get up, explore what’s in the kitchen. I don’t have much as I’ve been busy going back and forth between two places and haven’t had a lot of time to shop. I’m out of my routine.”

Ryder didn’t want to let her go, hated to move from this spot, but after his stomach rumbled once too often, he sat up.

“I think I have cereal or maybe some eggs,” she said. “I wouldn’t want you to starve.”

“That’ll work.”

She went to the closet, found a robe. Not the frumpy, functional one she wore in winter to bundle up against the chill but the short silky one that showed off her form.

As he stuck one leg into his jeans, Ryder noticed. His head whipped up. “Who knew the teacher was so fond of red?”

“I like color.”

“I like that you like color.”

He followed that laugh again as it rang out, down the hallway and into the kitchen.

“There’s not much here,” Ryder said as he perused the refrigerator. He opened the carton of milk, did the sniff test. “Milk’s okay.”

She retrieved a box of Frosted Mini-Wheats out of the cabinet and two bowls, two spoons.

They sat down at the table and dug in.

Just before taking her first bite, she looked over at his bare chest. “You know it’s a long way back to Pelican Pointe.”

“I was thinking the same thing. Look how long it took us to get here.”

“Exactly. It’s even farther back to the farm. You could call Troy, see if he’d do the morning milking for you. That way…”

“This time of night, it’s best to send him a text.”

Troy and Bree
had just left the dance in his GMC Canyon pickup and were headed out to his apartment when Ryder’s text came in.

“Who’s that?” Bree wanted to know.

“Ryder. Looks like he finally experienced ‘touchdown’ with Julianne. He wants me to take over his milking chores in the morning.”

Bree snickered in delight at the idea of Ryder and Julianne spending the night together. “You won’t say no, will you?”

“I’d have to get up at the crack of dawn. And I have my own plans for tonight.” Troy lifted her hand, brought it to his lips.

“It’s all for love. I’ll help you.”

“But… I wanted you to spend the night with me tonight.”

From the passenger side of the truck, she turned in her seat, tilted her head and ran a finger along his cheek. “Now how would I help you milk cows if I didn’t stay with you tonight and wake up when you wake up?”

Troy’s eyes flicked from the road and lit up. “Really?”

“Yes, really. I’m pretty sure if you play your cards right, you’ll experience the same sort of ‘touchdown’ for yourself as Ryder is right about now.”

The likelihood of that had him stepping on the gas. “I can’t believe Flynn gave you the night off.”

“Oh, I can. I bugged him about it for weeks.”

“Zach and I may not see eye to eye but we do agree on one thing. I don’t like you working at the bar.”

Her back went up. “I’m not listening to this with you too. I have to deal with Zach enough as it is. I’m earning a living doing the only job in town I can get at the moment. Please don’t ruin tonight by giving me a hard time about my job.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just that I want you to know I’ll do everything I can to make this excursion business a reality.”

“I know that. But until I graduate, it’s just a pipe dream and I still have to go into McCready’s whenever he needs me. It pays the bills. So you concentrate on your thing and I’ll work on mine. Deal?”

“Okay. Okay. I don’t want this ruining our night.”

Bree scooted closer, whispered in his ear, “I splurged on new lingerie.”

That had Troy increasing his speed again.

She laid a hand on his arm. “It’s okay. We have all night.”

J
ulianne opened one eye to the unmistakable sound of dripping water. But it didn’t sound like the pipes had burst. Could it be rain pounding the roof?

Before the other eye shuttered open, she felt the hard part of Ryder’s anatomy nestled against her leg that she’d enjoyed twice last night.

She tried to move to the edge so she could extricate herself from the sheets without waking him. But as soon as she inched over to the side of the bed, he latched on in a death grip and started nuzzling her neck.

“Where ya goin’?”

“Pee.”

“Ah.” He raised his head to listen. “What’s that sound?”

“Rain. Which only makes me want to pee more.”

He rolled to his back, allowing her the freedom to dart to the bathroom. “Are you saying we got our wish?”

As she beat a path down the hallway, over her shoulder she hollered out, “The rain gods must’ve been listening. The sky opened up and the rain’s coming down out there in buckets. I have no idea for how long.”

When she got back, she snatched her cell phone off the nightstand.

“What does all this rain mean for the fair?”

“According to the text message Murphy sent at seven o’clock, that’s forty-five minutes ago, the storm put an early end to the festivities. Wind damage to some of the vendor tents. Even the carnival is packing up and calling it quits, heading to the next town.”

“Should we go check on your stuff?”

“I didn’t have many items left,” she said as she slid in between the covers. “And if the tent collapsed, what’s still there is probably already soaked from the downpour.”

The phone on the nightstand rang and she flipped back over to answer it. “Hello. Oh hi, Pop. You know what? Let’s both take the rainy day off and be slugs. No, there’s no reason… Pop, why won’t you stay put? You deserve a day to kick back. Instead of picking up what’s left, indulge yourself, catch a preseason baseball game on the tube from sunny Florida. Okay. Great. See you then.”

“Nicely done.”

“He’s been working too hard. Like someone else I know.”

“But maybe we should go load up your things.”

Wrapping her arms around his chest, she snuggled into his body, ran a hand down his midsection. “If you really think my father will stay where he is, you don’t know John Dickinson. He’s probably already heading over there now despite what I say. Besides, do you really want to move from this spot?”